Tales from Albion presents the Woods
by Champion-Scribe
Summary: Two traders find themselves caught in a battle between a Balverine Slayer and a White Balverine.
1. The Woods

_These are the stories of the infamous and not so infamous people of Albion. Some are epic tales which will be told in sprawling chapters. Others are simple fireside stories which will last but a chapter or two._

I present to you…

**The Woods**

_This is the tale of how a certain Hero got his start in Balverine Slaying…_

"We cannot stop for long. The sun is setting and I hear it's a full moon tonight," Alban said softly to his traveling partner, Ben, as they both sat at the base of a large, shady tree. It had been six hours since their last break and both men were dead tired. Alban insisted they press on since they only had but an hour more traveling to go whereas Ben decided he wanted to stop for a quick bite to eat.

"We won't tarry long," said Ben as he pulled off his bulky boots revealing very wide and sweaty feet. "I just need to rest my feet for a bit and fill my stomach. We'll only be a minute."

"I hope you mean that Ben," Alban said earnestly. "If you're not ready in twenty minutes you'll be finishing this trek alone!"

Ben waved an impatient hand, "What's bothering you so much? You've been antsy ever since we entered the woods. I said I'll be quick about it so stop pestering me."

"You're telling me you don't know?" Alban said incredulously; he leaned in close and whispered, "This is Balverine country!" He stood up quickly and searched the forest with his eyes and his ears twitched as if they detected the distant cry of a hungry Balverine drawing near.

"Balverine country?" Ben repeated in a slightly nervous tone.

"I heard a little girl got mauled outside of Darkwood camp. It was just terrible. My brother's a guard in these parts and he was one of the people who found her. Blimey, he even had to tell her parents! They wanted to see her, ya know, to say goodbye, but there wasn't much to see…" Alban seemed to regret telling this story and Ben seemed to look paler than he was just a few seconds ago.

"I won't be long, okay? Stop talking about Balverines and dead girls in the mean time. Just sit down and eat with me, please," Ben muttered, the confidence he had in his voice prior to Alban's story was no longer there.

Alban sat beside Ben reluctantly, his eyes darting all around him as he did. He pulled out a meager sandwich and began to nibble on it.

"Eat. You'll be stronger for the walking," Ben encouraged Alban.

"I'm not very hungry, thanks," Alban replied, looking terribly nervous.

The two men ate their tiny meals quickly and in total silence, their ears twitching every time a bush rustled or a twig somewhere deep in the forest snapped. Strange sounds that they were convinced were made just by the wind blowing through the reeds echoed constantly in their direction creating a great sense of unease. They tried to take their minds off of things by making small talk but nothing worked. The subject always came back around to Balverines and since they were finished eating there was nothing more they wanted to do but to pack up and get back on the road.

As they begin to make their way back onto the main road a quick rustling came from the woods behind them. It sounded as if something was coming there way very slowly.

Alban and Ben looked at each other and then back to the direction the noise was coming from. Any minute now whatever was coming through the brush would soon emerge and, depending on what it was, it could either greet them hello or devour them whole…

Alban clutched Ben's hand but Ben ripped it away furiously thinking something was attacking his fingers. Suddenly, a six foot tall shape burst out of the brush and looked down at the men who leapt back in surprise.

"Still my heart!" cried the terrified man. "You two scared the heck out of me! What are you doing here standing in the middle of the road watching this here bush?" He was wearing trader's clothes that looked too big for his frame and he carried no goods.

Alban and Ben looked from the trader to each other, unable to answer.

"And what's he grabbing yer arm fer?"

Alban quickly let go of Ben's arm.

"We – we thought you might be a bandit or something…" Alban lied under his breath.

"Whatchu you think that for?" asked the trader quizzically.

"Well – I heard these parts can be pretty dangerous and – " Alban was stopped mid-sentence. Somewhere in the woods someone was screaming in terrible pain and _something else _– a very large animal by the sound of it - was howling in frustration.

"It was a wolf," Ben said as though he was trying to convince himself.

"No," said the trader, "Twas a Balverine that was."

All three men looked terrified.

"And it sounded like he caught himself some prey _human_ prey," the strange trader added.

The bushes began to rustle again but this time something fast was heading their way.

"What do we do?" Alban said, visibly shaking with fear.

"I – I – I don't know!" Ben replied, looking around for some place to hide.

The bushes burst open and all three men screamed in fear.

"Silence!" said the man who exploded out from behind them. "Get off the road, quickly!"

The three men ran off the road following the new stranger and hid in a thick bush. The new stranger wielded a long katana which shone brightly in the dark confines of the bush. Alban could make out one silver and two piercing augmentations inside hilt of the sword.

"Follow me," the swordsman ordered in a hoarse whisper. He led the trio inside the large, tangled roots of a gigantic tree.

They hid within the tree for what seemed like hours; their beating hearts sounding like heavy drums.

"I suggest you all calm panicked hearts as soon as possible," the swordsman said plainly, still staring out through the roots to the man road. "If you do not, I dare say you will be separated from them some time soon."

Ben clutched his bag to his chest muffling the sound of his heart which was beating faster than ever.

The swordsman held up a hand to make sure there was absolute silence. Someone was racing up the road, panting loudly and dragging, deep ragged breaths.

"Westin!" an agonizing voice called out. "Westin, for God sakes, don't leave me!"

A Balverine call sounded out again but this time it was much, much closer.

"Westin! It's going to kill me! Please don't leave me!"

The pleading voice sounded like it came from an extremely young man. The young man finally stopped running and stood panting in the middle of the road. He continued to beg for help and to call for this man named Westin when suddenly he let out an awful cry of surprise and pain.

Alban turned over and looked through a tiny space beneath the roots and saw the teenager being ravaged by a large, white Balverine.

The creature had the poor boy on the floor and was swinging its claws like a windmill, tearing bloody chunks of flesh off his body in great, sweeping motions. Alban gagged and turned away.

The Balverine sniffed the corpse satisfied with its recently killing. It grabbed the boy's head within its jaws and gave a quick, powerful jerk and there was a horrible crunch of bones being broken. Now positive that it's prey had been successfully hunted and killed, the Balverine darted into the forest, out of sight.

The swordsman closed his eyes and waited for an eternity before he turned to the others to say, "We can go now."

He led the terrified traders from out of the tree's roots and back to the road to observe the corpse. Kneeling close to the body, he and looked it over with intense morbid curiosity.

"Who was he calling for?" said the trader who Alban and Ben did not know.

"Westin, his brother," said the swordsman.

"Do you know him?" said the trader, unaware that he seemed to be annoying the swordsman or he did not care.

"Yes, I do." The swordsman replied very plainly.

"Where is he? Do you think we should return him his brother's body?"

"I don't think he'll want his body," said the swordsman.

"Why not?" but it was Alban who asked a question this time.

"Because I'm Westin and this is my brother."


	2. the Bloody Conclusion

The four men were following a lesser known path carved out in the brush beside the main road. Westin decided it was best if they tried to stay in the brush that way, if the Balverine was to return, they had a better chance of losing it.

"Why did you leave him" said Marks, the trader who finally shared his name a moment ago. "You could have saved him."

"Not from that thing," said Westin, "Besides, he was already wounded. There was nothing I could do."

"I had a healing potion," Ben piped up.

"Thank you for your concern but he was beyond your medicines, trader," Westin said darkly.

"Are you saying he was infected?" Alban asked quietly.

"No," Westin answered with a tone that suggested he didn't mind being asked more questions, "He was Marked by the Beast." He looked at everyone before he asked if they knew what that meant. Marks seemed to be the only one who knew.

"It's when a Balverine sets out to kill a specific person," he said smartly, looking very pleased with himself.

"Correct," Westin said, cleaving aside some gigantic thorn roadblocks. "And if you're wondering how one becomes Marked, you have to do something that angers a colony of Balverines very much or just piss off their leader. It usually doesn't happen to normal person but it happens quite often to Balverine Slayers and the people who hire them." 

"I didn't think Balverine's were smart," Ben said, who was talking much louder now that the atmosphere had gone from fearful to conversational.

"Regular Balverines aren't very smart but they aren't dumb either, mind you," Westin said, "It's the White ones that have the most brains. They lead packs, form colonies, organize breeding, arrange assaults. You mess with a White Balverine and you better kill it or it's going to find some way to kill you."

"What did you do to this Balverine to make it Mark your brother?" said Alban.

Westin smiled and nodded in his Alban's direction, "Why, I killed its mate of course."

At the exact moment Westin said 'mate' the White Balverine dropped down behind Ben and lifted him off the ground in one hand, holding on to the back of Ben's neck. The Beast grabbed him around the waist with his other hand and before Ben could fully comprehend what was happening to him, he was torn in half. The Balverine tossed his mangled corpse aside and growled at the others.

Westin raised his sword in preparation. "Run!" he cried to Alban and Marks and they didn't take time to be told again.

The Balverine charged Westin swinging its massive claws. Westin blocked each attack and countered with his own. The creature leapt up high and came down behind Westin and swung a massive blow to his back which sent him sprawling.

Alban watched the battle from behind a large tree while Marks hid inside a bush nearby. Westin kicked up and continued to fight the beast.

Westin got in several good swings, ripping long, thin wounds along the Balverines flank. The creature howled loudly every time he was being hit and seemed to be weakening after every blow. The silver augmentation, known now to be the White Balverine's only weakness, was most certainly working.

Westin pressed the attack, cutting the beast back into the base of a tree and continuing to hack him away. The white Balverine let out an awful guttural cry which rang out through the tree tops. It was so sudden and so painfully pitiful that Westin stopped attacking to look at the monster with confusion.

Alban screwed his face up in a confused look. It sounded to him as if the beast was pleading with Westin to stop. Marks had a cold expression of terror on his face and was yelling something in panic that neither Alban nor Westin could understand.

Marks finally said clearly, "He's calling for help!"

Westin prepared for the final blow. He didn't see a Shadowy Figure dancing in the treetops directly above him. It was another Balverine, a regular one this time, drawn by the White one's call.

The second Balverine dropped down Westin's back digging its claws deep into his flesh and biting feverishly into his neck.

Westin spun around screaming while torrents of blood gushed out of his neck. The White Balverine watched contently as its follower ripped the flesh out of Westin's neck.

Alban had to do something. He knew once the two Balverines were done with Westin, they would come for him and Marks next. He pulled out a long, silver pin from out of his bag and charged the Balverine riding Westin's back. He plunged the pin into its back and deep into its spine.

The Balverine leapt off Westin's back and fell to the floor, rolling in pain. Alban picked up Westin's fallen sword and finished it off by stabbing it sloppily in its heart.

The White Balverine rose up enraged and charged Alban.

He blocked the Balverine's attacks and countered with his own, repeating exactly the types of moves he saw Westin do just moments before.

Alban had no trouble slicing the beast back and finally, when the Balverine opened its arms wide to let out an earsplitting roar; he cut its head off in one swift motion.

The Balverine's body fell to the floor with a thud and began to ooze buckets of dark red blood across the forest floor. Alban looked form the corpse and then to Marks who was coming his way with much trepidation.

"Bloody wicked," he said, looking at the headless Balverine corpse.

Alban looked from Marks to his new sword and then frowned saying, "I suppose so."

"I'm sorry about your friend," Marks said softly. "He seemed okay."

"He was my cousin actually," Alban replied. "Known each other since we were tots."

"Oh, wow, sorry."

"It's okay, really," Alban said and then, looking very depressed and sad, his eyes filled up with tears, he asked Marks, "Would you mind helping me find his body so I can bury it?"

Marks nodded and the two went off in search for Ben's body.

"What will you do after?" Marks asked, without a care as to weather or not he was annoying the person he was interrogating.

"I suppose I'll head over to Darkwood Camp, that's where we were going," Alban replied, "And then I think I'll go to the Guild."

Marks's face lit up," The Guild? The Guild of Heroes you mean?"

"Yeah, I think I might sign up to be an Apprentice if I'm not too old."

Marks shook his head vigorously, "You're not too old. You look about my age and I was going over to the Guild right now to start my first days training."

Alban looked extremely happy despite his current situation, "Really? I thought you were a trader."

"I found these clothes on a body, dead, Balverine got it," Marks said shyly.

"Balverines," Alban muttered darkly, "I suppose once I'm done at the Guild, there won't be much more of those around."

**THE END**

_Alban went on to become a well-known Balverine Slayer called Silverblade. He currently lives in Knothole Glade along with his pregnant wife, Melissa, and their young son Ben. _

_Marks trained at the Guild and went to become a Witchhunter. After locating and destroying a powerful Sorceress he gained admittance to the Area where he was killed in the fourth round. _


End file.
